


The Wrath

by Lannakitty



Series: The Wrath [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Drama, F/M, Smut, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lannakitty/pseuds/Lannakitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Spoilers for the Sith Warrior Class Storyline!] A scene immediately after the end of the Sith Warrior Class Storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the SWTOR_kink meme on Livejournal. Cleaned up and claimed, 'cause I liked how it came out. I used the appearance of my Female Sith Warrior, who is a Pureblood.
> 
> This is a followup to a request on the Kinkmeme to investigate the same couple, Quinn and the Female Sith Warrior, right after the end of the Class Storyline. I tried to include some of the same sexy/tragic/redemptive aspects of the first. Also there is Force-bonding and explicit smut because there should be more for this fandom :)
> 
> Final spoiler warning for the Sith Warrior storyline for anyone who'd like to turn back now.

Malavai had always thought of Sith as strange other-worldly creatures; not aloof like the Jedi, but in-tune with the world around them to an incalculable extent, given to fits of mercurial passion, yes, but keen and battle ready in an instant. He'd worked with them and had respected their deadly power as he would any weapon, but he'd never grown close. Then she'd arrived on Balmorra.

He'd gladly followed her off that forsaken rock, telling himself he saw the potential in the Warrior and that it was for his career and not because of anything else. He'd tried to hold her at arm's length. Despite his best efforts, his intrigue had deepened as he came to know her better. She'd grown from a talented fighter into an inspiring general. He was proud to see how she'd grown into command, had learned to handle subordinates and superiors alike. She was a leader now.

But she truly seemed to come alive when she fought.

Unable to do anything more active, Malavai watched her. She was breathtaking in battle. One movement flowed into the next with power and precision. Only masters of the Force could be so destructive with both elegance and grace. Baras was like a bull nerf in a china shop compared to her, yet he was holding his own. For now. The outcome of the fight wasn't yet a foregone conclusion, but he felt confident that the Warrior would prove the victor. The alternative wasn't something he wished to consider at length - not that it would matter much if she didn't win this fight. It was certain that he wouldn't have much time to mourn her passing before he joined her. Every time she pressed her attack, he felt his heart speed up. Every time she took a blow, he felt it stop.

Malavai knew her better than anyone present; he'd studied her, fought with her, had loved her passionately. She'd proven conclusively that he couldn't predict everything she did, but he still saw details others missed. She flashed that distinctive, tiny, predatory grin, and he knew it was over. Baras might still be breathing but it wouldn't be for long.

A final altercation and exchange of words. Too delusional to realized he'd failed, Baras scrabbled for what support he could. He'd already lost, though he tried to deny it right to the end. And then it was over.

Malavai closed his eyes and breathed out. Baras was dead. They were free. _Free_. He opened his eyes again, drawn to her. She stood at the center of the chamber over their hated foe, luminous in victory. Her eyes caught his for the briefest of moments and he felt a sudden surge of euphoria, exaltation, triumph, satisfaction, and a thread of passionate lust. He couldn't tell if these were her feelings or his own, but it didn't matter. It only lasted a second before she turned away and faced the council, unbeaten, unbroken. Malavai had never seen anything more beautiful.

"Wow," Vette whispered into the silence. She nudged him. "Congratulations Captain. You're not a widower, and we all get to live."

Malavai hardly noticed. His attention was fixed on the Warrior in the other room. She was acknowledged formally as the Wrath and given the title Darth as was her due. Business with the Dark Council concluded, the Warrior strode out of the hall, head held high. A pressure wave of charged air seemed to precede her approach. Malavai wasn't the only one to drop to a knee. The Warrior stopped and regarded them all with the faintest noise of purring pleasure. Her voice made his insides twist in a most pleasant way. Jaesa and the Sith guards turned toward her like flowers in the sun, practically basking in her aura of power.

She reached down, touching his shoulder. That same jolt of emotion and energy stole his breath for a moment. When he spoke, he knew his voice was a bit rough. "My Lord?" He looked up and it wasn't a trick of the light, her eyes really were glowing.

"My business on Korriban is concluded. Tell Twovee the ship should be ready for departure when we arrive." As she spoke she drew him to his feet with a small gesture.

"Yes, my lord." Malavai bowed respectfully.

She smiled, teeth showing in a fierce grin, then continued down the hall. Malavai followed after her, snapping off quick instructions to Twovee on the Fury and taking up his regular position, beside but slightly behind her. Their honor guard formation back in place, they retraced their steps back to the shuttle. When they'd arrived perhaps an hour earlier, they'd been subject to casual interest but mostly ignored. Perhaps word had already spread, or maybe it was simply her presence in the Force, but this time everyone in the halls of the Academy bowed or knelt as she passed.

It wasn't unusual for him to be hyper-aware of her after a battle was over and they were the only two left on the field. His hands were the ones that ran over her body, tending to whatever injuries she might have sustained. He was the one close enough to smell the sweat, and blood, when the fighting had been especially fierce. He knew the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she came down from the high of battle, the way her eyes glittered in triumph because they'd live another day. This was much like that, but more, and his hands itched to touch her.

They were close enough he could feel heat radiating off her body. Malavai was very aware of the sensual, predatory sway of her hips, the way her lips were slightly parted as the battle-euphoria worked its way through her like a drug. Once, he'd been afraid of her reactions after a fight. He'd come to realize it was because he was afraid of his reaction to her. That was no longer the case, but he needed to focus right now.

The highly restrained and orderly part of him watched on auto-pilot, looking for threats and scanning the area as was per usual when the crew went out. The more passionate part of his psyche strained against his will. It howled at him to reach out and touch her, hold her, taste her, take her. Malavai let out a slightly stuttering breath. The electric air around the Warrior still persisted, running along his skin and heightening his awareness of her every movement, of how very close she was, and how they'd cheated death yet again.

He reached out slightly, just enough he could brush the tips of his fingers against her skin, just enough to take the edge off; no one would notice. If he was being honest, it was also to reassure himself that she was really there and they were walking out the fire on the other side. She'd moved her arm at the same moment and for a second her hand caught his. The emotions roared forth again, stirred by the brief contact. He could feel as much as see the small smirk that played on her lips. Her golden eyes slid over to look at him and it took every ounce of control not to grab her and- Malavai swallowed a groan and forced his focus back to the red-orange terrain of Korriban and the hastily scattering students. The shuttle was just ahead. He hoped the ride would be over soon. He would not embarrass his Lord by ravishing her in public.

He took a seat beside her. She did not meditate on this journey. Instead she lounged, one leg crossed casually over the other, exuding satisfaction and still radiating heat and power like a small star. Malavai almost jumped out of his seat when her hand came to rest on his. Since his... transgression, she'd not been so publicly affectionate and her touch was unexpected. It was also charged, and he shivered.

Her thumb idly rubbed back and forth, her eyes focused on the viewports. He studied her hand, strong, slender, and so much smaller than his own, as her fingers curled loosely around his palm, thumb sweeping over his skin. It was, he realized through the fog of sudden heat, a pensive movement. As if she needed to reassure herself that everything was real.

Malavai stared out of the viewport; it seemed better than drawing further attention to his Lord's private thoughts and actions. He turned his hand under hers, catching her fingers, and returned the subtle stroking motion. He was probably the only one who heard her nearly silent sigh. The blue of Korriban's sky gave way to the black of space. Her thumb stroked up and over his then down to his wrist and up again. He left his touch light, letting the pads of his fingers trace over sinew and knuckle.

The slide of her fingers over his was reassuring at first, but at some point he couldn't define, it changed. Her touch slowed until it was teasing. He responded in kind. She let her nails graze over his skin lightly before returning with the pads of her fingers. Malavai drew circles over the sensitive inside of her wrist with a delicate touch. She circled his thumb and stroked upwards with very suggestive pressure.

"Cough. Cough," Vette said. She was arching a pointed brow at the Warrior.

"Hmm?" The Warrior mused, her voice full of languid humor.

"Wait ten minutes?" Vette pleaded. "I mean if anyone deserves some downtime, it's you, boss, but-"

The Warrior held his hand with secure pressure and the deliciously distracting movement stopped. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Vette," she said, though it was clear she was teasing. Her entire demeanor became more businesslike - well, as much as she ever was. "Speaking of downtime, I believe we're all due. Suggestions?"

"Nar Shaddaa," Jaesa spoke up almost immediately.

He sighed as the Warrior laughed and Vette grimaced. Pierce frowned.

"I promise you won't have to fill out any paperwork this time, Master." She put a hand to her chest, the other raised in sincerity.

"Do I want to know what happened last time?" Pierce muttered.

"You don't wanna know," Vette told him. "I didn't want to know."

"See that I won't," the Warrior said. "You were deprived for far too long, but please keep your playmates relatively intact."

"Yes, Master."

"Some decent entertainment on Nar Shaddaa. Beats Hoth," Pierce shrugged a shoulder, choosing to ignore the Sith byplay.

 _"Will there be hunting?"_ Broonmark asked.

"Probably," the Warrior answered. "The Hutts post plenty of bounties if you wish to test your skills."

_"We look forward to the the hunt."_

"It'll be nice to see the gang again," Vette said. "I get calls from them sometimes. They still talk about that party." The twi'lek grinned.

"Nar Shaddaa it is then," The Warrior decided. She shot Vette a wicked grin. "Maybe I'll give your friend a rematch."

Vette snorted a laugh. "He wasn't able to drink you under the table last time, so I don't see him winning this time."

The shuttle arrived at their destination and the rest of the group exited the shuttle ahead of their Lord.

"You didn't say anything," the Warrior said.

"At the risk of sounding like a complete idiot," he said, bringing the hand he still held up to his lips and kissing it, "as long as I get to spend time with you, I don't really care."

She grabbed the front of his coat with her other hand and hauled him into a heated kiss. "I fully intend on spending... quality time with you." She nibbled at his lip. "Soon." With a grin she suddenly turned and exited the ship. Malavai regained his reeling senses and followed.

Vette rolled her eyes at them, and Malavai, feeling charged and perhaps a bit giddy, smirked back at her. That earned an arched eyebrow, a laugh, and a (mildly) impressed looking smirk. The group made their way towards the Fury, the celebratory mood spreading among them. Jaesa had begun to regale Broonmark and Pierce with the details of her previous adventures on Nar Shadda. Vette was back to her usual level of constant chatter as she interjected into Jaesa's story while she told her own. Or perhaps she was telling a lengthy off-color joke. Malavai wasn't quite sure. Not that he was paying much attention to Vette.

He was fairly sure that every time the Warrior's hand or arm brushed against him, it was intentional. The light hand that had subtly groped his rear certainly was. Every time he reached for her though, she was just out of reach. She shot him a teasing smile and it was very hard not to push her against the nearest wall and kiss her. If the ride up had been difficult, walking with her now was torture. At least they didn't have far to go.

"Vette, see if you can't find decent accommodations so we're not all stuck in one another's pockets on the ship," the warrior interjected, breaking the endless chatter. They'd arrived at the ship and Twovee had it ready.

"Sure thing, boss!" Vette sketched off a salute and entered the ship first.

"Pierce, set a course for Nar Shaddaa." Seeing Pierce's frown she added, "The Captain I will be otherwise occupied."

He got the point, saluted and marched into the ship after Jaesa and Broonmark.

Giving him a smug smile she entered the ship next. Malavai followed a breath behind. She played at ignoring him, only giving him a coy smile once the doors had closed and the airlock sealed behind them.

He pushed her against the nearest wall, body colliding with hers, his mouth following. He kissed her with everything he'd felt since she'd walked into the Council's chambers. All the terror, fear, joy, triumph, and excitement. She responded with passion of her own, her kiss was hot and demanding. They broke apart and she regarded him with steady, half-lidded eyes and a sultry smirk.

"You were magnificent," he told her, his voice mostly a growl.

The Warrior preened in sensual self satisfaction. "He's dead," she said, tone fierce.

Malavai kissed her again, hard and hot, pressing his body against hers. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand tangling in his short hair. He broke for air, blinking a few times as he tried to recall what he'd wanted to say. There were so many things. "You're free," was what came out.

"We're both free of him," she corrected, one hand stroking down the side of his face.

Malavai kissed her again and let his hands finally roam over her body. The armor had many new dents, nicks, and scratches. The areas covered only by the thinner cortosis-weave under-armor were warm, heated by her skin. He brushed over a textured area that didn't match the rest and she hissed, flinching away from his hands with a sharp curse. Startled, he stepped back.

She let her head fall back, with an exasperated huff. One fist struck the wall beside her. "Even in death he's still finding ways to annoy me."

He settled his hands on her again, careful of the injury. It wasn't lethal but it probably wasn't pleasant. Baras' saber had seared a few spots on the reinforced fabric. There were likely many bruises under her armor as well. She'd not come away from her fight unscathed. Adrenaline and whatever strange training in the Force the Sith utilized had kept her from noticing. Duty pushed more lustful thoughts aside for the moment.

"Let me take care of it," he said. _Let me care for you, now._ He brushed his thumb over her cheek because he was only human and more than duty bound him to her. "Then we can celebrate your victory properly, my lord," he suggested.

The Warrior turned her head and took his thumb into her mouth, sucking on it. She looked up at him through her lashes, inviting and challenging. The apparent temperature in the ship jumped another twenty degrees. He pulled his thumb free of her lips and trailed a finger down one bony spur on her chin. "Minx."

"You love it," she shot back.

He gave her a relatively chaste kiss. "Yes," he agreed. "But you should have that injury seen to, my lord."

"Is that so, Captain?" she asked, wearing a flirtatious smile.

He stepped back into a parade rest and affected a semblance of his usual focused demeanor. "Yes, my Lord. Improper treatment of injury results in a lowered rate of effectiveness. I can quote the statistics for you, if you'd like."

She snorted a laugh and didn't even try to keep the smile off her face. "Oh, really? Please, captain, do explain."

"Yes, my Lord. Not only would you be operating at less than peak performance, there is a causal relationship with the crew's performance as well, resulting in a net decrease in efficiency of thirty percent or more."

"Thirty percent?" she mused, tapping her chin.

"At least, my Lord."

"And how did you arrive at that number, Captain?" She crossed her arms and didn't quite hide the small wince.

It was visible enough it had to be bad; possibly bruised ribs, though it could be worse. On Taris he'd seen her run for the better part of a day with two broken ribs before she admitted, if however reluctantly, to the pain. It was very dangerous for any weakness to show when dealing with other Sith, and Thana Vesh had been stalking them at the time. Then on Corellia she'd suffered a sprained ankle and several nasty gashes due to her fight with Draahg. He'd noticed it only after Vowrawn had departed the scene. Korriban was full of the ambitious. There was no doubt she'd been repressing the pain from whatever injuries she'd taken.

"I find myself quite distracted, my lord," he explained, frowning. It was certainly true now. "The rest of the crew reacts negatively as well." They were a strange group, but despite their differences they had a common loyalty.

She sighed, pouting for effect. "I suppose you are correct, Captain."

He didn't miss the second wince. If past experiences were any indication, now that she had noticed the pain and was safely in private, it was probably becoming hard to ignore. Relieved she'd accept his help, he inclined his head respectfully, awaiting her next move.

Once he'd let go of the excuse that involvement with her wasn't proper, he'd learned to enjoy the game. It helped that she still respected his opinions and suggestions. He'd not yet examined the data thoroughly, but he imagined he'd find they were a more effective team.

Never one to let him have the last word, the Warrior pushed off from the wall and closed the distance between them. "May I say," she said, trailing a hand down his chest, "How much I love a man in uniform," the hand continued down the front of his trousers, "standing at attention." She palmed him and pressed her lips against his jaw. Just as abruptly, she sauntered away.

Malavai let out a breath and followed. The common area was empty as everyone else seemed to be in the cockpit or crew quarters. He retrieved the dark leshaa silk robe from her quarters then followed her into the small infirmary bay. She'd gotten as far as removing the heavy utility belt with her lightsabers. The Warrior stood over one of the beds wearing a look of intense focus, hands balled into fists. He let her have a moment and pulled out the things he'd need to treat the injuries he suspected she had.

"I still really hate Baras," The Warrior ground out a few minutes later. She began to undo the clasps on her armor. He brushed her hands aside and took over so she wouldn't have to move as much.

Malavai quickly undid the armored plating of her top and set it aside. The ablative skirting and heavy armored boots followed. He stood behind her and began to undo the seals of her under-armor, starting at the neck and working his way down. The fascinating ridges on her upper spine were revealed inch by inch. He released the last seal just above the curve of her rear then slipped his fingers under the fabric on her shoulders. He pushed it off her arms, fingers ghosting over her skin. He pulled the fabric off slowly in case it was stuck to any burned areas. Malavai kissed the back of her neck and was rewarded with a sigh. The tense set of her shoulders relaxing marginally.

"It isn't that bad," she protested. The Warrior turned to face him.

He doubted that. "Indulge me, my Lord."

She growled but let him push the top off the rest of the way. He let it hang haphazardly off her hips, more concerned with the dark bruises and angry looking marks on her torso. The saber hadn't cut through, but the strike had superheated the armor leaving a second degree burn. Having been on the receiving end of a few of those recently, he knew how badly they hurt. He picked up a scanner to check her ribs.

"Bruised but not broken. "

"Draagh was a tougher opponent." She sniffed imperiously.

"Which time?" he asked mildly.

The warrior gave him a shrewd look. "Both." She scowled and crossed her arms, wincing. "Baras wasn't a complicated fighter, he just hit like a mass-driver."

"Still, not many could have withstood his assault let alone beaten him. Still fewer after so recently fighting a Sith Lord of Draagh's power and skill."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Captain," she said in a purring voice, pleased by his appraisal.

"Yes, my lord." He smiled and continued to examine the largest of the burns. He carefully peeled back the lower edge of the supportive top she wore under her armor. "I need to remove this to treat the burn properly ."

"And now I see why you wanted to play doctor," she said archly.

Malavai kissed her shoulder. "My motives were purely altruistic, I assure you."

She began to pull it off over her head but stopped with a growl. "It's burned anyway. Just cut it off."

He arched an eyebrow but said nothing. He found the medical shears in a drawer and considered her top for a moment. Feeling mischievous he slipped two fingers down her cleavage and held the material in place as he cut through the center. Her skin was soft and warm. The material parted, freeing her breasts. He brushed across them as he removed the fabric.

"Altruistic. Really."

Malavai grinned at her in answer. He began to apply kolto-salve to the burned areas. The bruised rib had been smashed by Baras' lightsaber, he decided. The bruise forming was an angry dark purple line on her red skin. The cortosis armor had blocked the lightsaber from cutting her down, but the colossal force behind the blow couldn't be entirely mitigated.

"It's not as bad as Taris," he told her, "but I'd like to wrap it anyway." Between the medical equipment and her Sith nature, she'd be feeling better soon. Grumpy about the wrap and that she was hurt in the first place, but she'd be fine.

The flexible pad he applied to the area was designed to stimulate healing in such injuries as she had. He wound a long bandage around her torso to hold it in place. He brushed against the undersides of her breasts as he wound the bandage over her front. She leaned into his touch.

"Now you're just teasing," she accused.

Malavai took the robe from where he'd discarded it and helped her into the black silk. He drew it closed then cupped her breasts through the silk. It heated to her skin in moments. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples in small circles. She pressed against him, arching her back slightly. He kneaded them slowly. "How's the pain?"

"Fading. We done here?"

He chuckled at her impatience. He had other plans though. "Nearly." He slid his hands down to her hips, barely touching then slipped them though the part of the robes. He hooked his thumbs into the armor hanging off her hips. "I'd hate to think I missed something."

He crouched in front of her and drew the armor down, taking her underwear with it. Malavai ghosted his fingers down her legs, slowly taking the armor off. He helped her step out of it, then ran his hands up from her ankle. He stopped to rub small circles on the sensitive back of her knee before continuing upwards. Her hips shifted as he neared the top. He let go and repeated the process on the other leg, smirking at her disappointed growl. He kissed just above one knee, his hands massaging her thighs.

Her fingers slid through his hair. He kissed her other thigh, higher this time. He looked up to check her reaction. The Warrior watched him intently. He alternated legs again, hands sliding up to hold her rear. She made a little noise, the hand in his hair tightening for just a moment. He grinned and kissed her again before contemplating the area between her legs.

Sith Purebloods were very similar in anatomy to humans but with some subtle differences aside from the more obvious ones. For one, the patch of curls above her center was naturally smaller and more sparse than a human woman. He nudged her legs apart with gentle pressure on her thighs, placing a kiss just above the hair. Malavai felt her lower stomach tighten and heard the small intake of breath. He smiled up at her and flexed his fingers on her rear. The hand in his hair tightened then relaxed.

He slid one finger over her slick folds, just barely dipping between them in long sweeping strokes. The Warrior's hips shifted. He tightened the grip on her rear and leaned forward to lick at the small nub. She spread her stance wider, inviting him further. He wrapped his lips around her and sucked with gentle pressure. She moaned quietly. The nails in his hair scraped gently back and forth as her hand flexed. He chuckled, sliding his finger deeper into her.

A non-obvious anatomical difference he'd discovered, was the series of small ridges on the inside of her channel. She was incredibly sensitive there when aroused, and it felt amazing when he was inside her. He rubbed his finger against those ridges slowly while he lapped at her clit. She moaned again, louder this time. He sensed movement and looked up to see she'd gripped the edge of the bed with her free hand. Malavai added a second finger to the first and stroked her on the inside with slow curling motions. Her hips rocked a little and he held her in place, earning a frustrated little groan. He began to alternate heavy pressure and buzzing vibration against her core, keeping up the steady stroking with his fingers. The hand in his hair flexed in time with her hips.

He sucked hard, tongue flicking against her rapidly. He curled his fingers against just the right spot. She screamed her release, her hand fisting in his hair, her back arching. He kept up his attentions until she was shaking above him with small gasping noises and her knees began to buckle. Satisfied with his work, he sat back, withdrawing his fingers.

She watched him lick them clean then suddenly lunged at him. He found himself on his ass with her straddling his lap and his hands automatically came up to hold her. She grabbed his coat in either hand and pulled him into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. She licked and nibbled at his lips, tasting herself on them, then resumed the deep kiss.

Some of the more lascivious rumors about Pureblood men was that they all had pierced members. He'd ignored the whispered sniggering as hearsay when he'd been at the Imperial Academy. After experiencing her ardent reactions, it didn't sound so far fetched. If all their women reacted like this, then they'd be idiots not to get pierced. As she kissed him with abandon, nimble hands attacking the clasp of his belt, he had to admit it sounded appealing.

She undid his belt but ripped open the clasp of his trousers with a growl. The sound of tearing fabric caught his attention and he grabbed for her hands. She bared her teeth at him in frustration.

"I take it you don't mind I started the celebratory portion of the evening?"

She surged forward, capturing him in another deep kiss, her hips rocking in his lap.

He pulled back and had to clear his throat before he could speak properly. "So you're feeling better then, my lord?"

Her eyes narrowed and she made a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a purr. " _Husband_ , you will finish what you started."

"Then may I suggest adjourning to the cabin."

He'd made his tone droll, aiming for a smile or another one of those searing kisses. Of all the responses he imagined, he hadn't expected her to break into laughter. It was a genuine, joyous, _relieved_ sound. He must have made a face in surprise because she just laughed harder, all the emotions bubbling to the surface in a rush. As he watched her, a smile creeping on his own face, he realized he'd not heard her laughter in awhile. Not since before the transponder station. She hadn't called him "husband" either since then. His smile became a little sad and he felt a wave of regret over that fact.

She winced, a hand going to her wrapped side as abused muscles pulled badly enough to be felt through the pain meds. Malavai leaned up, one hand covering hers. He drew her into into a kiss with a gentle touch, pouring into it all the warmth and relief he felt. Her lips moved against his with languid passion, and he knew she felt the same way. He rested his forehead against hers, one hand cupping her cheek. He stroked her back through the soft silk. They'd made progress since the station. He still had far to go, but he had hope.

"I love you," he told her, the words coming out as a low whisper.

She kissed him with charged intensity, an echo of the shared look in the council chambers. Then she rested her forehead against his and smiled. There was such relief in her now; he could practically feel it. The tension she'd been carrying for weeks seemed to be dissipating. His hands ran up her sides, careful of the wrapped injuries, and covered her breasts. He kissed his way down her neck then down the center of her chest, stopping at each gentle ridge. The soft silk of the robe brushed the backs of his hands as he gently drew it aside. He kissed the underside of one breast then sucked on her nipple. Her hands went back into his hair as he switches sides. His hands went around her back, pulling her closer to him as he held her more securely. Her hips rocked slowly against his.

Malavai kissed up her neck, brushing her dark hair aside so he could kiss the sensitive spot just under and behind her ear. She shivered under his touch and she tilted her head to one side, allowing him better access. Not one to disappoint, especially when he still had much to make up for, he continued kissing the elegant arch of her neck. He palmed one of her breasts, gently kneading the pleasant weight, and rolling her nipple in his fingers.

The Warrior ran her hands up and down his chest before her fingers began to find their way under his coat. She splayed them flat on his chest and captured his lips with her own. She sat back, fingers slowly stroking his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. Her gaze was smouldering.

"You mentioned the cabin?" she asked, voice pitched to a throaty, flirting purr.

" _You_ mentioned I had to finish something I'd started." He leaned up and kissed the spot just under her ear again. "And as you know I pay thorough attention to detail," he concluded, whispering into her ear.

She chuckled, stole another quick kiss then stood, offering him a hand up from the floor. Malavai stood with a smile. He settled her robe on her shoulders and closed it for her, tying the sash in front. If his hands trailed over her body just a bit longer than necessary, well, he was only human. He was struck by how dainty she was without the armor. It wasn't a thought that occurred to him often. It was easy to forget when she was leaping into battle or cutting down arrogant, scheming pretenders to the throne; but really, she was almost...delicate. The thought must have shown on his face because she rolled her eyes.

She curled her fingers into his jacket and pulled him down into a searing kiss. "Bed."

"Yes, my Lord."

That earned a snort of laughter before she slipped her hand into his and tugged him along behind her. More than happy to be dragged along, he enjoyed the flash of her legs from under the robe.

"Oh!"

They paused as Vette squeaked from the couch. Jaesa looked up from the data pad she'd been examining. Her dark brows races for her hairline and she gave them both a rather leering smirk. While Vette obviously averted her gaze, Jaesa seemed to drink in the sight of them, disheveled and excited.

"We, uh, thought maybe you were gonna stay in there for a- anyway, my lord, I found some places on Nar Shaddaa that might work. They run from-"

The Warrior waved a dismissive hand at Vette then she continued across the cabin. "Book some space wherever you can get me a real shower and if it has a tub I could do laps in, all the better."

"Amazing idea, boss! I will look into that. Pierce says ETA is four hours."

"Thank you, Vette."

The door shut behind them, shielding him from view. He sighed in relief. She laughed quietly and turned to run her hands over his chest. "Was that sigh for Vette?" She kissed him. "Or Jaesa?"

He groaned. "You really are the most perceptive person I know," he commented, returning the kiss. "Jaesa if you must know." He'd wondered if Nerfs felt that way before they were pounced upon by a hungry manka cat.

"She started radiating so much lust through the Force I'm surprised even the rest of you didn't notice." The Warrior joked as she ground the heel of her hand into him through the fabric of his pants. "Though, I did have you in a bit of a state."

A terrifying thought occurred to him. He held her wrist and gave her his most serious look. "She wouldn't try-"

She laughed, interrupting him. He could have uncharitably called it a snicker. "No. She understands the crew is off-limits. You especially." She somehow managed to slip her wrist out of his grasp, and the hand went back to rubbing him. "I can't fault her for taking pleasure in something she sees, though." She kissed his neck. "I'd be a very poor master if I did."

"I see, my lo-"

Her finger on his lips stopped him in mid-sentence.

"There are more interesting things to do right now, than talk."

He couldn't have agreed more. He quickly stripped off his coat and kicked off his shoes. She grinned and backed him towards the bed with a hand on his chest. He sat down and continued to scoot backwards as she advanced. She pushed him onto his back and leaned in to kiss him, one hand pulling his shirt out of his trousers. Her hand ran over the fabric then slipped under, gliding up and down his skin. She broke the kiss and slid down his body, nipping lightly through the fabric of his shirt. The Warrior pulled up his shirt then licked her way up his chest. She flashed him a grin then alternated nips and hot, open mouthed kisses as she went back down again. He felt a surge run through him as she nipped at the skin just above the waistband of his exposed undergarments. Her hands ran back up his chest, taking his shirt with them. He helped her remove that while her fingers tugged at his pants. He tossed the shirt aside and helped her remove his trousers. When they were gone he sat up, one hand on her cheek, drawing her into a kiss. She indulged in that before pushing him back to the bedding with a sly grin that promised wonderful things.

The silk of the robe trailing over his exposed skin made him shiver. Malavai watched as she bent down to kiss just above his waistband again, then lower. He groaned as she mouthed him through the fabric. His head fell back for just a second, but he had to watch her, had to touch her. He began to massage her back and shoulder with one hand, the other arm propping him up so he could watch. The Warrior looked up at him through her lashes as she licked and kissed just above his hips, her free hand massaging him through the fabric. She slipped two fingers under his waistband then carefully pulled the fabric away and down, mostly freeing him. Watching up the line of his body for his reaction, she leaned in and licked the head. He gasped. Pleased with this, she gave him a wicked smile before beginning to kiss up the underside from base to crown. Malavai's head fell back again as her lips wrapped over the top of him. She let go of his waistband and wrapped around him with that hand. The fabric pressed against his base and sac while her hand squeezed and her lips... Thoughts became hard for a few minutes as she worked him over. He realized he was the one moaning and that she needed to stop or their fun would come to an early conclusion. He reached for her with a grunt he'd intended to be a warning, gently pushing her away with a hand on her shoulder.

She backed off, rising to kneel between his legs and tug his undergarments off the rest of the way. She tossed them over her shoulder vaguely in the direction of the other discarded clothing items. She watched him pant for a few moments, eyes bright and her body-language eager, ready to pounce. Unlike her apprentice, he welcomed her predatory anticipation.

Malavai sat up, reaching for her. He drew a hand down her jaw and rubbed his thumb lightly over the delicate spur by her chin. They kissed slowly, because they could; for the moment no one was trying to kill them. She reached between them and began to stroke him. He shifted his hips and grunted, earning him a kiss on the nose. Malavai took that as an invitation to fondle her breasts again. her nipples hardened under the soft fabric and he decided he rather liked the sensation.

"Shall I leave it on?" she asked, tone wry. She'd crawled into his lap, the slow rock of her hips rubbing the slick folds of her center against his length. The soft fabric of the robe added an exotic sensation.

"I like you in anything," he replied. "Or nothing."

"That's why I like you, Quinn," she said between kisses. "You're adaptive."

"I aim to please."

"Hmm," she mused before taking him in hand again. "That you do."

She shifted around then sank down onto him with a moan. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her with one arm and pulling her hips into his with the other. The movement of her hips was short and insistent. They kissed, mouths open and hot, tongues sliding over one another. Malavai sensed her frustration with the current angle and wrapped both of his arms around her back. She opened her eyes and blinked at him for a curious second then went with him as he lay back, her hair spilling down on either side of her face.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Adaptive."

This time he'd expected a laugh and got a searing kiss in return.

He slipped one hand down her ridged back, battle-roughened fingers catching a little on the smooth fabric of the robe as they slid down to her shapely rear. He palmed her breast with his other hand, rolling the hard point of her nipple under the sleek fabric of the robe. He was lightheaded when the kiss ended. The soft heat of her breath filled his senses. Her kiss-swollen lips parted as she panted. She pulled back and looked down at him as she made her ride long and deep, her hair swaying with the motion. Her eyes seemed to glow in the low light. Electricity crackled between them; as he had on Korriban, he could feel her presence more keenly. The Warrior seemed to be looking for something, her eyes slightly narrowed as she searched his face, her fingers tracing over his skin.

"You're brighter," she told him. Her hands and lips were everywhere and he almost missed the wondering tone to her voice. The Warrior nuzzled against the side of his face, hands now pawing at him in a sort of excited desperation.

He tugged her down so he could kiss those tempting lips. He still had no idea what she was talking about. The only thing that mattered was the feel of her around him, the smooth slide in and out, the little hitch in her voice as the crackling energy building around them again. She moaned against his lips, her arms cradling his head as they kissed, her hips continuing their sensual movement.

He broke the kiss this time and watched her, entranced, as she rode. Her forehead rested against his, eyes closed as she panted, seemingly lost in passion. He nibbled up the elegant curve of her neck and was rewarded with a gasp and a shudder. His lips traced over the facial jewelry she wore then back to her ear. The smooth fabric of her robe slid over his legs as he sat up with her. It slipped down one of her shoulders exposing brilliant scarlet skin and the darker red of her nipple. One of her hands gripped his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair. She was warm and slick around him; hot and so tight.

"Malavai," she moaned his name, her fingers leaving trails of fire across his chest.

He felt a shock as their eyes met, the same that had passed during their silent exchange in the Dark Council's chamber. A wave of energy, mixed with exultation and lust, rolled down his spine and shot off into every nerve. There was no doubt that the feelings came from his Warrior. Even as his own heart answered, joyfully, in kind, he wondered at the clarity of the sensation.

She grinned down at him, her golden eyes glowing, their weight _pulling_ on him. He was both excited and terrified by the intensity, the exuberance, in her expression. She licked her lips and ground her hips, clenching around him as she drew one hand down his jaw. The motion of her hips became faster, matching the insistence of her fingers in his hair, the intensity of her gaze.

"Let me in," she whispered. Her plea was overlaid with excitement. "I can _really_ feel you. Let me show you. Let me in."

He frowned a little at her odd statements. "Of course, my Lord," he said, reverting to formality as he puzzled over her; as if he could deny her anything especially when she was so tight and wet as she rode him.

"I want you." She nipped lightly at his ear. Her voice was intense, holding undercurrents of excitement, anticipation. _"I need you,"_ was unspoken, but firmly present and understood.

"I am yours," he murmured back. Whatever she wanted of him, he'd gladly give it. He'd not falter in his commitment again.

One hand stroked his face, the other arm draped over his shoulder. She leaned in closer, her soft panting breath warming his cheek. The smile she wore was infectious and he was in the process of forgetting the odd exchange when her forehead dropped down to touch his. It was then that he became aware of the maelstrom.

Malavai gasped. He couldn't see it so much as _feel_ the roiling, mass of energy. It was a living, predatory thing, shot through with dark joy, hot passion, and fierce triumph, pulsing in time to her movements. He'd seen evidence of the Force, had felt the brush of power on occasion, but he'd never _felt_ it so directly. It bent to her will like a half-tame hunting beast, ready to be unleashed at her orders, or possibly drag her into a frenzy. It was more than a mantle of power, it was a part of her, finely enmeshed in her being.

She shivered in his arms, but her smile was brilliant. He wasn't quite sure what happened but suddenly he felt exposed. Whatever modest mental barriers he'd erected were simply gone, apparently vaporized by her whim. He felt a moment of panic, followed swiftly by a sort of pre-battle excitement; he had invited her after all.

The nebula of power surrounding her "reached" out and he was both terrified and excited as it brushed against him, then into him. Malavai felt the Force sweep through like a hurricane, taking his breath away, leaving him reeling. Fear passed, scoured away by the magnificence revealed to him. In the eye of the storm, there was a moment of _recognition_ , of understanding his own heart, and he saw the small element of the Living Force in himself as well.

He felt her careful focus and barely contained excitement as she touched his emotions, his will, the whole of his physical being. She drew out everything about him as a delicate web, teasing him apart until he was laid bare before her in a way he'd never considered possible. Using the Force she connected each part of the web with a matching part of herself, small tendrils drawn from the living storm of her existence. With each new bond, his awareness of her grew, as well as his understanding of what she was doing and how serious she was. She drew the last connection together with a feeling of triumph. The delicate webwork held steady for an instant, resonating like a plucked string, then swirled back into the now shared maelstrom of energy between them.

_"Mine."_

The moment passed and he was suddenly confined to his own body, for he was not a Force user and such awareness was not for him beyond the smallest glimpse. He found himself stunned. It was the power to destroy and create worlds, and yet she had such _control_ over it, over _so much_ of it. He focused on the Warrior, blinking as he adjusted to having normal senses again. Except... She was still in his head.

Her lower lip was caught between her teeth as she watched his reaction, for once her expression entirely unguarded. More than the physical expression, he could feel some of her emotions; excitement, joy, a decidedly smug satisfaction and... the thinnest thread of nerves, well hidden to anyone but him. She'd wanted to share this part of herself with him, had wanted him to experience what she felt, first-hand. She'd saved him, had accepted the darkness in his own heart, had chosen him despite his mistakes, and had now inextricably bound his life to hers.

"I-"

He silenced her with a searing kiss, wrapping both arms around her. He held her close as he laid her on her back, the robe fluttering down to the bed around her like dark wings. She gasped as she hit the bed and he claimed her lips again, resting his weight on his arms on either side of her and thrusting his hips. He loved her, utterly, and needed to show her. He could feel her mild surprise become delight then sensual _need_. Malavai marveled at this latest gift from his Lord and vowed he'd be worthy. He pulled out slowly, nearly leaving, then thrust in hard and fast, repeating the sequence until she moaned his name. He reached between them and touched her center, the shock of her pleasure nearly his undoing. He felt her disappointment as his fingers stilled, then moved them faster to please her. His Warrior drew her nails up and down his back as he thrust into the bed. Her nails grazed over his ass at just the right pressure on one pass and he felt an electric buzz at the base of his spine. She repeated the motion, responding to his emotions.

Malavai found himself whispering to her, telling her she was so strong, so beautiful, and felt so good. The words fell from his lips as he kissed down her neck. He let the fingers of one hand roam over her body, guided by the soft noises she made and the strange, new feelings in his head. She'd pressed her head against his, cheek to cheek, and he could feel the soft flutter of her eyelashes. His murmuring lost coherence, and soon all that mattered was the movement of her hips in counterpoint to his, the coiling tension in his groin and the sounds she was making.

The need to come was almost a painful thing and he could feel she was close, that she wanted it as badly as he did. He thrust harder and faster, rutting with animalistic passion, drawing little needy noises from her each time. He shifted them around a bit so he had better leverage, and fucked her harder, pulling her to him. Malavai watched the soft sway of her breasts as their hips collided. One of her hands came up to touch a nipple and he felt a male growl bubble up from somewhere deep in his chest. He felt her amusement and saw the sly grin as she watched him. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and he lunged forward to kiss the smirk away. He touched her again, fingers swirling over her with furious speed. She came apart under him, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders, muscles tensing. He _felt_ her in his head, a sudden, blinding burst of primal pleasure. The sensory overload was his own undoing. His hips rocked as he emptied into her. She gasped under him suddenly, her voice caught in her throat, her hands convulsing on his shoulders again, and he dimly felt the second shockwave.

He dropped back down to his arms, trying to take most of his weight, but unable to move further. They were both panting heavily, equally stunned by the intensity of their climaxes. After a moment he slipped out and fell to the bed beside her, staring at the ceiling of the cabin. She lay beside him, evidently as spent as he was.

And then she laughed.

He could have called it a giggle, but he was fairly certain that Darths did not giggle, and he wasn't willing to argue with her, or her lightsabers, over the point. It was a tiny, incongruous sound he'd never heard from her before and suddenly wanted to hear again. She took a breath and sighed deeply. The feeling in his head was one of sated smugness and satisfaction. He decided he liked that feeling in her a great deal. More than that, he liked that he'd been the one to make her feel that way. Sudden amusement, directed unmistakably at him, accompanied her snicker. She patted his thigh then let her hand rest there.

At length he had the energy to turn his head to the side and look at her. She turned to look at him, her movements languid, and arched a brow.

"Hmm?"

The lazy, pleased tone drew a smile but he had questions.

"What is-" he gestured vaguely, encompassing everything that was new.

"A force-bond," she answered, and he got the distinct sense she thought this was right and proper. He didn't mind, in fact there were several advantages he could immediately see right off, but why now?

She chuckled and he felt the dark humor in it. "I tried once before." He felt... regret? Her hand slipped into his. "Either I wasn't strong enough then, or he'd blocked you somehow. Or limited me." He could feel the seething anger at her former master boil to the surface.

"I'm not Force-sensitive."

"No," she agreed, "But I am. You have many fine qualities, Malavai," she flirted. He loved the way she said his name. "I'm willing to overlook that minor fact," she concluded. He could feel the determined truth and it was... reassuring. He'd tried not to worry over the disparity in power between them, had made up his mind it wouldn't matter. She'd obviously decided the same thing. He'd entertained some thoughts on the future, their future, but not since the transponder station. Now was not the time for that conversation, but where he'd been afraid it wouldn't happen, he now had hope.

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "That's not standard training on Korriban."

She laughed. "No." She stretched out on the bed then sank back onto it with boneless grace. The amount of flesh on display was distracting even though they'd just finished. He was drawn from his ogling by the odd interplay of satisfaction and old wanting and pain.

"Sometimes they form over time. Sometimes they're forged by circumstance. If you know what you're trying to do, one can be forged on purpose." She drew the back of her hand up his side. The emotions she felt now were old sorrows; banked embers rather than burning flames. "Mother showed me the bond she had with Father. After she died it was a ragged hole he filled with rage and memory." Loss and pride in equal parts, again very old and deep. She'd never spoken of her youth at length and while he was curious, now was not the time for that conversation either.

He took her hand again. "It makes you more powerful."

She shrugged. "Some Sith would disagree. They see it as a vulnerability rather than a strength. They're wrong." Her tone was casual, but what she felt was deep, passionate conviction. He'd always thought that like most Sith, she was perhaps a bit prone to reckless fits of rage and fury; he'd not known the truth strength with which she held herself in check, keeping her emotions tempered into fine weapons. Baras might have been oblivious in his pride or he might have had an inkling, but it ultimately didn't matter. He'd never stood a chance.

"Then Baras must have interfered," he concluded. "He wouldn't have wanted you to be stronger. Or think you were stronger."

She growled. Her hand tightened around his. He could feel her possessive anger in the back of his head. "Denying me you left us both vulnerable to attack." She let out a long breath, restraining her rage with smooth practice. "I have corrected that," she stated primly. His Warrior exuded such smugness he found himself smiling though he felt a pang. He'd never have betrayed her if she'd been able to see his heart so clearly when Baras had approached him.

"Stop."

He looked at her, surprised by the abrupt order. She wore a slight grimace. His Warrior looked away and he could feel a complex interplay of emotions, each one rising and falling too fast for him to accurately name.

"Stop," she said again, her tone more mild. "Don't wallow. I don't like the way it feels. I-" she cut off abruptly with a frustrated growl. "I'm not built," she said, haltingly, "to give up on anger." She gritted her teeth. "Even when I've given mercy."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I know." Emotions were weapons. He'd no sooner ask for her to give one up than he'd give up his side arm. That he had her mercy was more than he could ask for.

He felt her answering surprise, then amusement and satisfaction. "This," she said at length, "is going to take some getting used to." She rolled her head to the side, the corners of her mouth upturned in a smile. "But there are some distinct benefits."

He brought her knuckles up to his lips. "Yes, my Lord." _I love you._

She smiled and he felt happiness from her.

Her mood sobered. "We will make things right between us." It wasn't an order or a question, but somewhere in between, with hope and determination.

Malavai rolled back into his previous position, hovering over her. He leaned down and kissed her, focusing on his hope for the future he wished to build with her, on his love and gratitude and awe. He willed himself to feel as much and as strongly as he could, so that she might understand the truth of his feelings.

She gasped, a soft "oh!", barely voiced.

He rested his head against hers, his fingers traced down the bony spur on her jaw. "We will," he assured her. "As you have said, we're stronger together."

She drew him into a kiss. Words weren't needed for now.

~Fin


End file.
